The Marks and The Scars.

Sat in my spot, on the top of my bed,
Cutting and carving, all covered in red,
The tears i was crying, have all blended in,
For with cutting and carving comes crying within,

It stops all the tears on the sides of my face,
It stops my heartbeat beginning to race,
It stops the thoughts of should i and could i,
It keeps only the feeling of cut it and cry,

It's down below, the mask of me,
At this point I'm utterly free,
Free like a butterfly, high in the wind,
But more like a moth, trapped within,

The knife i know, shouldn't be the answer,
But it's cutting across me like a no-cure cancer,
You die of that, cancer i mean,
Maybe it will work and make my skin clean,

With scars and marks there is no future,
With scars and marks there is only a past,
With open wounds there are only endings,
And with open scars there are only regrets,

I've had my future and I've had my regrets,
They only brought pain i will never forget,
I've got my past and awaiting an ending,
Cause i know the marks and the scars won't last.

*All votes and comments greatly appreciated as always*